The Psychology of Chaeronea
by Baliansword
Summary: In their first battle, Alexander and Hephaestion both see two different views of what war and death is. It is in this that Hephaestion offends Alexander in front of many of his pupils, and therefore, must find a way to make it up to him. Rated T for Viole
1. The First Battle

**Title**: "The Psychology of Chaeronea"

**Author**: Baliansword

**Type**: Story

**Chapter**: 1, "The First Battle"

**Rating**: T for Teen

**Warnings**: Some violent content, some sexual content.

**Summary**: Alexander and Hephaestion fight in their first major battle, however, sometimes the battle with what you have done is worse than the battle itself. Hephaestion angers Alexander in a rather interesting way, and then has to make it up to him.

**A/N**: Hey everyone, time that I wrote an actual story instead of a one shot. I think this is a pretty good idea, but let me know what you think. I'm taking a psychology class, so as long as I'm not paying much attention in the class, I should write this. Look, I even put psychology in the title.

**Dedication**: For Mary, who suggested that for once Hephaestion needs to make up to Alexander for something. I guess that you are slightly right.

**H/N**: The Battle of Chaeronea was the first battle that Alexander and Hephaestion, as well as the rest of their young friends, fought in. I've done other stories about it, but this seems pretty cool too. Alexander would have been 16 and Hephaestion would have been 17, in case anyone needs to know.

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Hephaestion felt his grip on the sword tighten as he sat on top of the horse. The stead was pawing at the ground, anxious to charge forward. Hephaestion on the other hand was not sure if he was ready. He glanced to his left, where Alexander sat atop Bucephalus, hoping to see that Alexander too was unsure of what they were about to do. Alexander was nothing of the sort though. He was almost as anxious as the horses. He had even taken his helmet off, as had Cassander, Hephaestion noticed. He on the other hand was keeping his on, and wished for a moment that he could wear something to protect his legs. In truth, he was slightly scared of what was to come. He was a failure to be scared. All this time he'd been trained with Alexander in Philip's court to be a warrior and now, at the first sight of battle, he was terrified beyond all reason.

"Ready your swords," Alexander called out. Hephaestion glanced down at his hand. His knuckles where white from his grip on the hilt of the blade. Even with such a grip his hands still shook a little. He drew in another breath and watched as the Illyrian army came around the bend. It was what they had been waiting for, for the Illyrians to come to them so that they had better ground. Hephaestion glanced at Alexander, who gave the signal, and he let go of his grip on his stead's reins.

The two small groups collided with a sudden force. Horses screamed as pike were forced into their chests, and men screamed as they were trampled. Hephaestion gripped his sword firmly in his hand as he thrust it down into the shoulder of a man close to his horse. The man let out a cry and then fell to the ground screaming. He was crushed as Hephaestion's horse jumped to the side as it was prodded with the tip of a sword. Hephaestion was jerked to the side as well and lost his balance for a moment. Before he knew it, the horse was prodded once more, and this time reared backward. Hephaestion slipped from the sudden movement and hit the ground.

He pushed himself up, sword still in hand, and immediately made wide swing with his blade. He managed to slice through the stomachs of two men that were closest to him. From that point on, he forgot his fear and was concerned only with protecting himself from death. Hephaestion lunged forward, his sword sliding into the chest of another man. With a quick pull he removed his bloody blade from a man and knocked him down. He then turned, his blade raised, and blocked a sword from colliding with his own chest. The metal against metal sounded out and he tried to gain a footing. He did so well enough and pulled his blade back before making another effort to attack.

It took him a moment, but as he fought it was becoming easier and easier. He took a step back only once, to move away from a blade, but then lunged forward once more. His sword was brought down against the man, and blood sprayed from the wound, splattering against Hephaestion's face and chest. He immediately turned his head away, as if to avoid seeing what he had done, but there was no time to falter. He was still surrounded, and still was being attacked. It was not easy, not in the slightest.

Men cried out from all over the small field. Soon it was becoming harder and harder to move, because there were bodies littering the ground. It took everything he had to concentrate on what he was doing, and not that. There were some of them that were still alive, Illyrians that had fallen. There were Macedonians that had fallen as well. Hephaestion did not want to leave them there on the ground, screaming and bleeding, but he knew he had to. He continued to fight, and he fought with all the strength he had, and then everything seemed to go silent. He did not even hear the horn that signaled the Illyrians to retreat. In the end he stood, his breathing labored, and bloody from face to ankles. Some of the blood was his own, most belonged to others, but it was crimson blood none the less.

"Hephaestion," a voice called out. Alexander approached him from the side and threw his arms around him in a quick embrace. He looked much the same, blood covering him, only happier about the mess. "We've won! They have retreated! The run in fear from us Hephaestion!"

Hephaestion found himself only nodding, yet not listening. He was instead surveying the ground around him. He looked at the dead bodies on the ground, eyes still open in fear. Some of the fallen soldiers were men, old enough to have children his age. However, some of them were his age, and few younger than that. Alexander continued to talk, continued to praise what they had done, but Hephaestion could not listen. Instead, he heard nothing except for his heartbeat. Then, he doubled over, and vomited on the blood stained sands.

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There was never a moment where there was nothing glorious about what he was doing. Body after body fell and he continued to cut through them. When the retreat horn sounded, he screamed out a cheer of victory. The remaining Illyrians ran before they too could be slaughtered. Alexander reached up and wiped blood away from his cheek. He then dropped his sword and laughed. As soon as he had a moment, he began to step over dead bodies, looking for Hephaestion. There were not many fallen Macedonians, so he would have to deal with that later.

"We beat them," Cassander said as Alexander passed him. Alexander said something to him, and then continued on his way. Cassander went back to claiming things from fallen bodies. There were some men that had honor. There were some that did not. Cassander bordered both of these realms. This, however, was about to push him into a specific one.

Alexander took no notice of this though. He instead found Hephaestion and wrapped his arms around him. He spoke, and he went on and on, but he knew that Hephaestion was not truly listened. He stopped, and for the first time he looked at him. Hephaestion was pale, even though most of his face was covered by blood, his helmet long lost in the battle. Alexander placed a hand on his shoulder, and asked if he was alright. Hephaestion just knelt over and vomited.

"Hephaestion," he said as Hephaestion wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Alexander waited for him to glance over at him, but he did not. Instead, he trembled slightly, as if something had scared him. "Hephaestion what is it? Are you hurt?"

"He is a woman when it comes to war," Perdiccas answered for him as he walked up. He dragged his sword behind him, even though he could have carried it. He did not seem to care about what the sword was cutting over. "He always has been Alexander."

"Shut up," Alexander ordered. He then placed a hand on Hephaestion's forehead. He was sweating, and he was cold. "Hephaestion, look at me for a moment."

Alexander reached out as Hephaestion looked at him and began to wipe blood away from his face. Alexander managed to get some of the blood and sand away from Hephaestion's cheeks, but not much. It did not help that Alexander's hands were just as stained with crimson blood. Hephaestion blinked a few times and then swallowed. Alexander smiled at him for a moment. He then stood, and helped Hephaestion up, not caring in the slightest about who was around to see.

"Get cleaned up," Alexander told him. "You will feel better after you do so."

He at least had been told that. He did not know what Hephaestion would feel like though. He truly hoped that all would be well. He looked like he'd seen Hades. Alexander watched as Hephaestion slowly walked away, glancing at the face of every man it seemed. He was even careful to step over each and every one of them, whether he needed to or not. Alexander then shot Perdiccas a look, one which told Perdiccas not to say anything to Hephaestion again. Alexander just hoped that Hephaestion would be better by the feast that would be held for them tonight.

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A/N: More to come soon! In the next chapter is where Hephaestion will offend Alexander, as you will see. Hope to have it up by tomorrow night. Review, let me know what you think. Or don't review, but then, I won't know what you think!


	2. The Victory Feast

**Title**: "The Psychology of Chaeronea"

**Author**: Baliansword

**Type**: Story

**Chapter**: 2, "The Victory Feast"

**Rating**: T for Teen

**Warnings**: Some violent content, some sexual content.

**Summary**: Alexander and Hephaestion fight in their first major battle, however, sometimes the battle with what you have done is worse than the battle itself. Hephaestion angers Alexander in a rather interesting way, and then has to make it up to him.

**A/N:** Wow! Thank you everyone for the reviews. There were more than I was expecting! I hope that everyone will enjoy this, especially Sushoo and Mary, who it was written for.

**H/N**: The Battle of Chaeronea was the first battle that Alexander and Hephaestion, as well as the rest of their young friends, fought in. I've done other stories about it, but this seems pretty cool too. Alexander would have been 16 and Hephaestion would have been 17, in case anyone needs to know.

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Hephaestion's hands shook as he dipped them into the water. He let out a startled yelp and then pulled his hands back and tried clasping them together. Drawing in another breath he began to pace, for he knew not else what to do. Everything that he had just seen was real. This was not training anymore, the fallen would not get back up. There would be no laughs and jokes made later. In truth, this was nothing more than murder. Stopping suddenly, he reached that exact conclusion. He was a murderer.

Still he heard their screams, those soldiers on the field, which he'd killed. He heard even those that were in no way near to him on the field. There were faces he saw too, faces that were as young as his, and they would not be coming back to expectant mothers. There were fathers that would not return home. There were sons, husbands, grandfathers, uncles, nephews,…the list just kept going as he thought about it. For a moment he tried to think about what it would have been like to have been killed. Who would go to his mother and tell her the news that her only son was dead, killed for a fight he cared nothing for?

"Hephaestion," a voice said, drawing him from his thoughts. He glanced over as Cassander entered the tent, the same bright smile shining from his eager face. He was all too ready to kill. He was all too pleased with himself, and for that, Hephaestion realized that he hated him. He hated that it was fine for him, yet he himself could not even touch a sword without shaking now. He couldn't even look at himself in a reflection of water without seeing blood.

"Come on," Cassander said briskly. "Hurry up so that we can get going. Alexander will be praised for years for this victory. We all will be Hephaestion. We cannot be late to the feast, otherwise, that may change."

"Shut up," Hephaestion said as he clipped a dagger at his side. There was no real reason to do so. It was for show. It seemed as soon as he had removed his fingers from it, the blade fell to the ground. Panicking slightly, Hephaestion knelt and picked it up and tried once more to place it at his side. It fell again, but on the third time, his hand was shaking less. He managed to place it at his side, and this time it stayed.

"Problem," Cassander said with a raised brow.

"No," he answered. He then pushed past Cassander and exited the tent. Cassander followed close behind, more than ready to bask in his glorious win today. It was not his. It truly belonged to Alexander. Yet sometimes Cassander became confused about who he was, and what his name titled him.

Hephaestion stepped past a group of younger men, who had at least seen battle before, as he closed in on the heart of the action. Already Alexander was lifting a goblet of what Hephaestion knew was wine. He drank it down and then let out another victory cry. There was something about the sight of it that made Hephaestion's stomach turn. He didn't want to see Alexander like this. The boy that he knew, the boy that he loved, would not take so much joy in the slaughter of others. Alexander shouted something to the soldiers around him, but Hephaestion could not hear him. He also was unsure if he wanted to, either.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said upon spotting him. Immediately he was rushing up to him. He threw his arms around him and smiled. He then quickly pulled away and waved his hand around at the feast that was taking place. There were tables with food on them, seemingly out of place on dirt that led to the field hundreds at least had just died at. There was music, which pained Hephaestion even more. It was supposed to be a happy tune, however, he could think of nothing more than loud screams in his head.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said again. This time Hephaestion looked at him, instead of into the darkness of the night. "What is wrong? You don't seem to care at all that I'm trying to speak with you."

"No," Hephaestion assured him quickly. "It is not you."

"Are you well?"

"Fine," he answered with a weak nod. He then glanced to the darkness once more. The screams were still there. The blood was still there. It was wrong. They were celebrating, and mothers were at home crying. They took joy in the suffering and death of others. How could he be here?

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Alexander looked at him again and this time actually rolled his eyes. Hephaestion always had a way of making things less fun. For the most part, he enjoyed that about him. It was good to know that Hephaestion was watching out for him. However, this was not one of those times. At the moment, he wanted to do nothing more than celebrate their victory. Hephaestion clearly wanted nothing to do with that.

"Come on," Alexander said as he grabbed Hephaestion by the arm and pulled him further into the bodies that were swarming into the feast. There was a moment where Hephaestion tried to pull back. It did not seem to help though. Alexander drug him right into a situation that he wanted, but did not know that Hephaestion did not want.

"Alexander," Cleitus said as he raised a goblet. This goblet was gold and had in it the finest wine in all of Pella. Cleitus had been sent by Philip to watch him. Alexander knew this, but at the same time, he did not mind now. He had won, that was all that mattered. Cleitus grinned as he held the golden goblet up, and all were silent. Even the music stopped.

"In this goblet," Cleitus said to all. Everyone heard him, no matter how far away they were. "In this goblet is your vow to Macedonia. You stand after your first battle! When you drink this, you shall win the rest!"

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Hephaestion watched as a circle was formed. He watched as Cassander drank from the goblet. He knew that he would. Cassander had no trouble in killing. The goblet continued to be passed, until finally, it was in Alexander's hands. Hephaestion did not wish him to drink it. He wanted him to stand up to them all. He wanted him to be the one that said he would not drink. However, Alexander raised the goblet without a hesitation, and drank. He then held the goblet out, handing it to Hephaestion.

Hephaestion took the goblet and then stared at the wine inside of it. It was the crimson color of blood. Perhaps it was blood. There was plenty enough of it he knew. Hephaestion blinked, and his hand began to shake. There was a moment and then he began to raise the goblet to his lips. Yet, it fell to the ground before it could touch him.

"No," Hephaestion said as he shook his head. He looked at Alexander, hoping that there was where he would find his support. "I cannot do it Alexander."

"Pick it up," Alexander said under his breath so that hopefully only Hephaestion would hear. Hephaestion shook his head though. Alexander felt himself growing angry. He voiced his words again, only loud enough so that his voice rang out and all could hear him.

"We are not victors," Hephaestion said as he took a step back. "We murdered them Alexander! There is no glory in that!"

"You will drink it," ordered the prince. Hephaestion stood his ground however. He was not going to drink a victory if it meant to do so in the slaughter of others. Of all people, he thought that Alexander would understand. As Alexander grew angry, he knew that he too was becoming angry.

"Drink it," Cassander said with a slight laugh.

"No," Hephaestion screamed. "I will not drink it because your prince is a brat that thinks victory is only glory! You care nothing for the lives of others Alexander!"

It was silent when he said these words. However, it seemed as if everything froze in the world when Hephaestion said these words. Even Cassander smirked, thinking that Hephaestion would surely be executed for such a statement. Hephaestion did not wait for this though. Instead, he brushed past Alexander, saying nothing more.

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A/N: Next chapter will be up tomorrow, I hope. I have a case of strep-throat and it seems to be complicating a lot of things. I will definitely try to post this for everyone though, by tomorrow. Thanks for the reviews. Review more if you get the chance!


	3. Spoken Betrayal

**Title**: "The Psychology of Chaeronea"

**Author**: Baliansword

**Type**: Story

**Chapter**: 3, "Spoken Betrayals"

**Rating**: T for Teen

**Warnings**: Some violent content, some sexual content.

**Summary**: Alexander and Hephaestion fight in their first major battle, however, sometimes the battle with what you have done is worse than the battle itself. Hephaestion angers Alexander in a rather interesting way, and then has to make it up to him.

**A/N:** Again, thank you guys for the reviews. They are very enjoyable.

**Dedication:** For Mary, and Sushoo.

**H/N**: The Battle of Chaeronea was the first battle that Alexander and Hephaestion, as well as the rest of their young friends, fought in. I've done other stories about it, but this seems pretty cool too. Alexander would have been 16 and Hephaestion would have been 17, in case anyone needs to know.

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Alexander had watched Hephaestion storm off. There was a silence like no other, but soon the feast was on once again. However, Alexander did not feel the same. He put on a smile, and laughed with the others, and drank more than he should have. Yet for the rest of the night Hephaestion's words lingered in the back of his mind. He couldn't believe Hephaestion had said those things to him, let alone in front of everyone. He was a fool to do so. If he had said such things before his father, Philip, he would be dead or exiled. However, as Alexander thought things through, he realized that Hephaestion had made a point. It was his opinion, which was not necessarily correct, but it was still his.

"He did not mean it," a voice said later, and Alexander's head snapped up. Cleitus had entered his tent, a cup of wine still in his hand. At times he feared Cleitus, for he knew the hopes that he had for him. He, just like his father, did everything in his power to make him a man. Half of the time he viewed him merely as a friend though, which was far better. Cleitus gave him a look of understanding and then sat down on a chair.

"I think he did," disagreed Alexander.

"Hephaestion is a fragile soul," Cleitus told him. He sat back and glanced at his cup, as if he could not meet Alexander's eyes. "He views things more as a woman would, not that it is all bad to do so. He concerns himself with the pains of others."

"He disgraced my name, Cleitus! In front of all of the others no less!"

"He called you a brat, which is what you are at times. You know this. I've heard your mother scolding you for that often enough. Hephaestion was not meant to kill, Alexander. I believe he does so for other reasons."

"If he doesn't want to do it, if he does not want to defend Macedonia, then why does he even bother?"

"Wait," Cleitus said, putting up a hand for Alexander to stop. He then laughed slightly. The youth knew nothing about emotions deeper than those that could be easily seen. Love seemed to be one that Alexander and Hephaestion were having a problem with. "This has nothing to do with him protecting Macedonia. If it came to it, he would fight to protect his home. What he truly protects here, at this moment, is you Alexander."

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Hephaestion ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it, and then sat down once more. There was no apology for what he had done. As he collapsed once more in his room he tried to think of a way to make it up to Alexander. Perhaps if he had said what he had behind closed doors, all would be fine. Yet, to say if before his peers, there was the problem. He should have said it before they left the field. There never seemed to be a right time though. Instead, he'd said nothing to Alexander, and Alexander had said nothing to him.

There was a knock at his door though and he glanced up. Of all the people to enter his room, this was the person he wished to be there least. Cassander smirked slightly as he flung the door shut. He then picked up an apple and took a bite out of it. Hephaestion tried to keep the idea that he had saved that out of his mind. He couldn't get it back now. Well, he could, but who would want it? Cassander merely laughed as he picked up a piece of parchment. He glanced at it then tossed it, letting the wind carry it to the ground.

"Were you invited to the feast tonight?"

"No," Hephaestion said simply. He glared at Cassander for a moment, wishing that he could blink and he would just fade away. He didn't think he was going to be that lucky though. Cassander was already sitting down as if he planned to stay for some time. Hephaestion picked up a book, a copy of the Iliad that Alexander had still not come to get back, which was perhaps a good sign. Silently he placed it on a nearby desk, hoping Cassander would not see it. Cassander did not, which was a rather good thing.

"I wonder why that is," Cassander mused aloud. He sat back confidently as he continued to chew on his apple. "Maybe, it has something to do with the fact that Alexander does not want you coming. I bet he's found new friends, and has a new best friend. I told you when you returned from Athens, you don't belong here."

"You don't belong here," Hephaestion said, referring to his room, as he stood. He went to the door, held it open, yet Cassander refused to budge. Hephaestion shut the door and then walked across the room. He stood before Cassander, glaring, hating him for stating the obvious. Cassander knew that he was not invited. Everyone knew! Why did he feel as if he must come and rub it in his face?

"I wonder what they will do with you now that you serve no use to Alexander, or to Pella. Maybe you could go back to Athens. Then, when we come to invade them, you can die at the end of my sword."

"You presume too much," Hephaestion replied quickly, striking like a snake. "You know well enough that you've never beaten me."

"But I shall," Cassander said with a shrug. He then tossed the core of his eaten apple at Hephaestion, who instinctively caught it. "I have to be going though. I think I'll sit next to Alexander tonight."

"Just because I am not invited," Hephaestion said as Cassander placed his hand on the door. "Does not mean that I will not be going."

"We'll see if you have it in you," the other laughed. He then shut the door, and Hephaestion fell back against his chair once more. It would be foolish to suddenly walk into a feast he was not invited to. He wondered who would notice though. Perhaps…no one. Then again, it was a feast that was partially Olympias' idea. There perhaps would be a chance for him to get to see Alexander after all, without his own identity being revealed.

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A/N: Sorry that this is short! Still sick, going to school, and working. Wow. Terrible. I hope this is a sufficient post though. Review, let me know what you think.


	4. The Costume and the Apology

**Title**: "The Psychology of Chaeronea"

**Author**: Baliansword

**Type**: Story

**Chapter**: 4, "The Costume and the Apology"

**Rating**: T for Teen

**Warnings**: Some violent content, some sexual content.

**Summary**: Alexander and Hephaestion fight in their first major battle, however, sometimes the battle with what you have done is worse than the battle itself. Hephaestion angers Alexander in a rather interesting way, and then has to make it up to him.

**A/N:** Again, thank you guys for the reviews. They are very enjoyable. Sorry for the long delay. No, I have no idea where this idea came from…..

**Dedication:** For Mary, and Sushoo.

**H/N**: The Battle of Chaeronea was the first battle that Alexander and Hephaestion, as well as the rest of their young friends, fought in. I've done other stories about it, but this seems pretty cool too. Alexander would have been 16 and Hephaestion would have been 17, in case anyone needs to know.

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He sat still, his hands folded in his lap, and let them continue with their work. He felt a piece of his hair being pulled and tried not to let out a quick yelp. It hurt though, having the pins being arranged. Yet he knew that it was worth it. The women moved away from him for a moment and he glanced at his reflection. The more they did the less and less he could see himself. It was a good thing that such was the point of all of this. Before he could look more, there was a hand on his cheek turning his head.

"Be still," Olympias ordered him once more. Hephaestion stopped fidgeting. Olympias then picked up another piece of some odd foreign makeup. Hephaestion closed his eyes once more and let Olympias mold him. He felt her hands, which were not as cold as he would have thought, touching him. She did not speak as she drew a prefect line over the top of his eyelids. Olympias stopped and leaned back in her seat. Hephaestion slowly opened his eyes and blinked. Olympias was already sipping wine from her cup once again.

"You look like you were born this way," Olympias said. She reached out and pulled a ringlet of his hair in front of his shoulder. Olympias' maids had curled his hair and had then pinned it back, modeling it after what they did to Hephaestion's hair every day. Hephaestion wondered why women endured such torture. The paint, which they called makeup, was not much better either. His eyes burned. At any moment he was going to go into a sneezing fit as well. Olympias looked at him once more before she nodded.

"You'll need a dress," she said. She then rose, picking up a snake as she did so, and made her way to a closet. Hephaestion rose as well. Before he followed her he stopped to look at himself. His reflection was a perfect stranger. His long hair now resembled Olympias', which was odd enough. Red lips parted as he reached up to touch his powdered cheek. Olympias had even put a light colored hue over his eyelids. Hephaestion blinked once more before following Olympias. In the back of his mind it still surprised him that he was wearing black eyeliner over his eyes. On the other hand, he wondered what Olympias was going to dress him in.

"This," she said as she selected the prefect garment for the occasion. The dress was rather simple in make. It was a pale blue, and long. Hephaestion swallowed. Olympias held it up against him. Her eyes sparkled and instantly Hephaestion began to thing that this was a terrible idea after all. He looked at the dress once more. The neck was low, but was not cut to expose cleavage, so he had that in his favor. "Yes. This is perfect for you. It matches your eyes."

"Maybe this is a bad idea," he told her. She had at first been skeptical of this idea. He had somehow convinced her though that his plan would work. He also told her it was in her best interests as well. She couldn't hold it against him that he loved her son either. In fact, she knew that Alexander was safer in the good graces of Hephaestion. They countered one another, perfect opposites in most things. Besides, she knew her son. She knew that he found his sanity in his friendship, and his love, for Hephaestion. All knew that. One would have to be rather blind not to notice the bond they shared.

"Nothing is a bad idea when done in the name of love," she corrected him. She smiled at him once more, as if she were his mother too. Surprisingly, it was rather reassuring to Hephaestion. He took the dress from her and turned his back to her. He then began to remove his clothes with a sigh. Dropping the chiton he wore to the floor, he then slid the dress on. Slowly, he turned and faced Olympias, hoping that he looked alright. Olympias held her hands clasped together, placed over her lips, and she nodded at him with a smile in her eyes. Hephaestion reached up to toy with a ringlet of hair once more. Suddenly he felt as if her stare was burning him, and he wished her to look away so that he could run, and hide from this entire idea.

"I can't do this," he then told her.

"Of course you can," Olympias said as she placed a hand on his cheek. She then looked into his eyes as a mother, not the vicious woman that she was known by many to be. "I believe in your love for my son Hephaestion. You are the only thing, the only one, in this world that I would trust with his life. Look at me Hephaestion, there is nothing in this world to keep you from him. Say that, tell me what the gods have already told you in your sleep."

"The gods do not speak to me."

"They do," she assured him. She placed a hand under his chin, lifting his eyes to hers. Her eyes were those of a Harpy, and her tongue belonged to a snake, yet even knowing this Hephaestion listened to her. He listened to her, not to the extent that Alexander did, but enough. "The gods gave me Alexander, they gave me a son to avenge me, and to rule the world. Yet you, Hephaestion, they gave him to you as well. You are to nurture him, to guide him along, for you are the one he loves."

Hephaestion looked at her a moment more. However, she clearly had a feast to prepare for as well. She had done what he'd asked of her. He now looked as if he had been a young lady his entire life. As he stepped out of her room, he truly wondered what he was doing. This was by far the least rational thing he'd ever done.

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Alexander looked around the room for a moment. He almost thought that he saw Hephaestion enter, but when he looked closely, it was merely another of his father's pages. Sighing, he lifted his cup to his lips and drank once more. He then set the cup down and continued through the crowd. There was something that caught his attention though.

"You know you want a good time," Cassander said as he wrapped an arm around the girl once more. Alexander shook his head as he cut through the crowd. There were times when Cassander had too much wine, and if Alexander had not, he would refuse to let him make a fool of his kingdom.

"Let me go," the woman said, shoving Cassander with a good amount of force. In fact, Cassander found himself taking a step back. Alexander, at that time, wrapped a hand around the wrist of the girl before she could strike out at him. He didn't need this getting worse. The last thing he wanted to see tonight was his father taking this poor girl in front of an audience as a punishment for reacting in such a way at his feast.

"You're strong," Alexander said, and the girl froze, but did not look at him. He stepped to the side, coming to face her, and his breath caught in his throat.

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Hephaestion knew that he knew. He drew in a breath, wondering what Alexander would do. To his surprise he did not do anything. Instead, he continued to hold his wrist, staring at him. Slowly Hephaestion pulled his hand back and Alexander drew in a breath. He then grabbed his forearm and pulled him to the side. Cassander was so drunk by now he barely noticed a thing. Alexander quickly shoved Hephaestion against a wall, and Hephaestion for the first time knew that Alexander could hold the same temper his father had. Yet he did not know that Alexander was not mad. He was concerned.

"What are you doing?"

"I had to see you," Hephaestion said.

"Like this," Alexander hissed as he glanced over his shoulder. "What are you doing? Do you have any idea what could happen if…."

"If I did not see you," Hephaestion whispered. "Alexander, I didn't mean what I said, not the way it was taken. I love you, and only you, but I can't be what you want me to be. I can't, and I know that you can't love me for that but…."

Alexander silenced him with a quick kiss. It did not matter who saw. For to others, Hephaestion was not himself, he was a beautiful woman. Alexander wrapped his arms around him and kissed him deeply. He then pulled away and placed his hand in Hephaestion's. Without an explanation, he led him out of the room, but not before some parliament member managed to slap him on the rear. It took everything in Alexander not to turn around and severely break the man's hand. Instead, he left, taking Hephaestion with him.

He took him back to his chambers, where they would not be disturbed. Hephaestion unpinned his hair, with some help, and washed the makeup off of his face. All the while Alexander watched him. There was something so wonderful about Hephaestion, and he couldn't put it into words. He just knew when he looked at him that all would be well as long as he had him to hold onto in the night. Hephaestion borrowed a chiton as Alexander pulled the blankets away from his bed.

"Stay with me," Alexander whispered. Hephaestion looked at him for a moment, still thinking that Alexander could ever be mad at him. "Besides, you still have to make up for calling me a brat."

"Do I," Hephaestion asked as he wrapped his arms around Alexander.

"Of course you do, and I think you're going to have to start right now."

Alexander then pressed his lips to Hephaestion's. There was nothing more he needed. Having Hephaestion hold him, and love him for who he was, that was the greatest gift of all. Being honest with him was not a fault. It was not something he should have to be apologizing for. In fact, Alexander never wanted him to apologize. He loved him. That was all he needed.

ENFIN

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A/N: I hope you all enjoy this. Sorry it was such a long delay for a very odd ending chapter. Let me know what you think though. Just thought we needed a light, happy end.


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